I Work to Get Away From My Kids

I have two sons who are, naturally, the most adorable, brilliant, and lovable children ever to grace the planet. I love them fiercely and tell them so as often as I can. There is plenty of joy and laughter as we we hunt for frogs, fish in the creek, create epic sidewalk art, pick dandelions, sing silly songs of our own devising, and learn about fractions while baking chocolate chip cookies.

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But life with two littles is not always cookies and dandelions; sometimes, it is about melted chocolate ground into my new rug, ink all over my kitchen floor, and pebbles shoved up the baby's nose–all before 7:30 AM. There are nights where I wake up 30 minutes after quieting the baby's tears to find that the preschooler has wet his bed. And then there are the days when I walk past the baby shower gift that I started and still naively plan to finish, en route to the bathroom, where I will sit on the bathtub wall and cry with my friend whose marriage is falling apart, trying to ignore the little fingers reaching under the locked door.

On these days, it is with a smile of relief that I shower my children with hugs and kisses and send them to daycare. Then, I start my other work day. I have entire conversations with my clients that are not interrupted by screeching toddlers and arguments about trains. I never once have to tell my coworkers not to eat unknown substances found on the floor, and "poop" and "boogers" are not mentioned. I can reach that zen state where the words really flow, and before I know it, two hours have passed and the task is done.

I never once have to tell my coworkers not to eat unknown substances found on the floor, and "poop" and "boogers" are not mentioned.

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At work, I engage with other adults to grapple with difficult problems. I learn new things and teach them to others. My brain is stimulated and I feel like a contributing adult. It is invigorating when I can deliberately stretch my capacity to think and create, and in doing so, I increase in confidence. Of course, these things can be accomplished in other ways, like volunteering at a local non-profit, writing a novel, or building a rocking chair in my garage. But at work, I can also earn the money that puts a roof over my head, puts toddler-friendly food on the table, and keeps my kids' daycare in business.

Parenting toddlers is fulfilling and meaningful in a totally different way. It is a repeated exercise in patience and empathy, a constant sowing of seeds that will one day bloom into a deeply beautiful new life. It is also an exercise in learning, teaching, and expanding. I find that I have more to give my kids when I have had time to feed myself too.

The part of me that flourishes at my day job is focused, smart, resourceful, and hungry to learn. It is an essential part of who I am as an individual, and I would be in danger of losing myself if I failed to feed it. My children would suffer, and I would suffer too. I work so that I can pay for the childcare that gives me time to focus and expand an essential part of myself. And when work is over, I can scoop my kids into my arms and be thrilled to go chase lizards or watch my boys tear through the house in a riot of noise and energy.

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